by Anne Weale
"We haven't met before, have we?" as they reached the lift.
Joanna shook her head. "I'm a singer. You might possibly have seen me on television a few night ago."
"Good lord—yes, I remember now. But I thought you were French," he said, puzzled.
"I am — in a way. Doctor, Cathy is going to be all right, isn't she?"
"Yes, of course. There's no need for you to worry about her. A few days' rest and she'll be as right as ninepence. But if you could pop in tomorrow morning — she seems very attached to you."
"I'll come," Joanna promised. "And thank you for all you're doing for her." The lift arrived and she stepped into it "Oh, by the way, the chap who came in with her — her cousin, I believe he said — is still downstairs in the wait- ingroom. Ground floor, turn left and you'll see the notice over the door." The doctor pressed the button for her, waved a cheerful farewell and went on his way.
Charles was leaning on the radiator when Joanna entered the waiting-room. He straightened and looked at her enquiringly.
"She's fast asleep. The doctor says we needn't worry," Joanna said quickly.
"Thank God for that." Charles ran a hand over his head and relaxed. "This place is like a hot-house. Let's go out to the car."
It had been raining, and the night air was cool and sweet. Somewhere a clock struck midnight.
"It was good of you to come," Charles said formally, as they walked round to the car park.
"You must have known I would."
"Well, yes, but I didn't think you'd be able to get here so quickly. You're not working tonight, I gather."
"I was supposed to be," she said.
He didn't react for a moment, then he caught her elbow and swung her round to face him.
"You mean you didn't appear? You just walked out and left them standing?"
"That's right." She echoed Gustave. "I'm afraid I broke one of the first precepts of the theatre — 'the show must go on.' Don't tell me you disapprove too. Gustave was furious, of course, but then he's in the business."
"Disapprove!" Charles sounded oddly hoarse. "But this could be taken as a breach of contract, couldnt it? They could kick you out."
"If they chose to be awkward, I suppose they could," she agreed, with a slight shrug.
Charles was still holding her elbow. "You mean you risked losing your job for Cathy?"
Joanna raised her face to his. "Not entirely for Cathy," she said quickly. "You sounded so worried, Charles. I thought it might help to have… another member of the family on hand."
His fingers bit into her arm. "Oh, God!" he said huskily.
"Joanna, I———- " Then his arms were round her and he was kissing her with a passion that left no doubt how he felt about her.
They were standing in the opening to the car-park, and the next thing Joanna knew was that a beam of bright light was shining against her closed lids. Then Charles raised his head, muttered an expletive and drew her a yard to one side. The car which they had been impeding edged slowly forward. As it drew abreast, the unseen driver gave vent to a long low whistle. With a smothered laugh, Charles drew her back into his arms and kissed her again.
"This does mean what I hope it means, doesn't it?" he enquired presently, his lips against her temple.
Joanna drew a long quivering breath. She felt rather as if she had just been through a whirlwind, but the sensation was far from unpleasant.
"What do you hope it means?" she asked, in a small voice.
"That you love me — that you'll marry me?"
"Oh, Charles, you must know I do — and will."
His arms tighened, but this time he did not kiss her. "I don't know why I should," he-said ruefully. "Up till tonight you've been markedly offhand, my sweet."
"Only because I didn't know how you felt. It isn't 'done' for women to show their feelings."
"Maybe not, but they can drop the odd hint, can't they?"
"But I did—dozens. The other night at the hotel————— "
"Yes, I must admit you did seem quite pleased to see me. But it was a bit of a setback — that French chap showing up."
"Oh, Charles, you weren't really jealous of poor Yves? He's never meant anything to me — at least not in this way. And he is engaged to someone else."
"Was he engaged to someone else that night at the Cordiale?"
"No, not then — or he wouldn't have been trying to kiss me. It — it's all rather complicated. Do I have to explain it now?"
"No, for the moment there are more important topics. Look, we can't stand here much longer. Let's get in the car. It's starting to rain again and I want to kiss you in comfort."
Some time later, when her heart had settled down to an approximately regular beat, Joanna moved her head against Charles's shoulder. "But if you felt… like this, I don't understand why you were so beastly to me," she murmured. "Well, not beastly perhaps — but not in the least lover-like."
He caressed her cheek with his knuckles. "There were several reasons. The chief obstacle — and it still stands, I'm afraid — is that I felt it was wrong to ask you to make such a sacrifice."
"What sacrifice?" she asked blankly.
He withdrew his arm from around her and lit a cigarette. "We have to be realistic, Joanna," he said seriously, reaching for a cigarette. "I'm not the kind of man who can play second fiddle, and you haven't worked all these years and finally got where you are just to throw it all over and become a provincal housewife. If I hadn't been… pretty keyed up this evening, I wouldn't have let this happen."
His reasoning seemed so fantastic to her that, for some seconds, Joanna couldn't speak. Then she said furiously, "So you'd have let me go on thinking you despised me, and ruined both our lives? Oh. you Englishmen are incredible! Thank goodness Frenchmen aren't so stupidly noble."
"You hot-tempered little idiot! Don't you see———- "
Joanna slid her arms round his neck and pressed her mouth against his. She felt him stiffen, but it was only momentary, and then his arm gripped her fiercely round the waist. In the end, it was she who had to beg to be allowed to catch her breath.
His hold slackened. "But what does that prove?" he asked thickly.
"That you can't resist me indefinitely… and that I know what I want out of life," she whispered huskily. "Oh, Charles, don't you see? It wouldn't be a sacrifice.
It would be a wonderful exchange. A career isn't what I want. It was only a substitute for the things that really matter to a woman — love, and a home and children. I don't even have to think about it, my darling."
"You're sure — you're very sure?"
She gave a low laugh. "Shall I tell you something? When I had to come to London, I wasn't excited and pleased. I was utterly miserable because I thought I'd never see you again. And the other night… I didn't care if the rest of the audience liked me… I was singing for you. Oh, please, I've been lonely for so long — don't take this away because you have silly doubts. All I ever want is to be yours — to belong to you."
He took her face between his hands. "I believe you mean that. But, my love, have you really considered what you will be giving up?"
She turned her lips into his palm. "Fame, money, luxury — they don't make up happiness, Charles. I think they probably destroy it, or at least make it very difficult to find. Oh, yes, every woman dreams of having wonderful clothes and being admired and feted. But we don't need that, darling — and we do need love, terribly."
There was a moment's pause and then he bent his head and lightly kissed her forehead. "All right — you win, my sweet. But when you're a harried wife with a couple of infants at your apron-string, don't come to me for sympathy. Once you're mine, you're mine till you drop."
Joanna drew a deep breath. "It sounds heavenly." She
E
ushed back her tumbled hair. "And now, I suppose, I'd etter get back and face the music. But it doesn't really matter if they do sack me now, does it?"
"I hope they will, then we can get
married right away." Charles gave her a reassuring pat. "Don't panic, sweetheart. They won't eat you while I'm around."
* * *
A little after ten o'clock the following morning, Charles's car drew up at the entrance to the hotel ana Joanna slid into the passenger seat. They were going to see Cathy and break their news.
"Seen Hugo this morning?" Charles asked, when they were merging with the traffic.
"Mm, I've just left him. He's still furious, of course, but you know I have a suspicion that it's fifty per cent put on. He was really angry last night — and I suppose he was justified, in a way. I owe everything to him — including you, since he advised me to come to England with you — and my defections reflect on him to some extent. But under that hard-bitten exterior I believe he's really rather romantic. I think he's beginning to regard my retirement as a kind of crime passionel — shocking but excusable."
"Perhaps he's another of your victims, my pet?"
"Gustave?" she expostulated. "Oh, Charles, don't be absurd. He's old enough to be my father — older — and he isn't as soft-boiled as all that." Her eyes lingered on his strong profile. Now, at last, she could look at him without the fear that he might suddenly turn his head and read the expression on her face. "Charles — when did you begin to love me ?"
He laughed. "I wonder if there's any woman alive who hasn't asked that question? Is it so vital to know when the fish was hooked?" Then, serious again, "I was always attracted to you, but I think I first realized it was serious on the night of that party. When I saw you wandering about the garden with young Neal, I could have flattened him."
"Yes, I was always attracted to you in a reluctant kind of way," she admitted. "I wonder what Cathy will say?"
"I suspect she'll approve. Ever since I hustled her out of the hotel the other night, she's been alternately glowering at me, or pointing out all your good qualities."
"If it hadn't been for her we should still be miserable," Joanna said gratefully.
She told Cathy so at the end of their visit. Charles had left them alone for the last few moments while he had a word with the doctor.
"I say, Joanna — I don't want to sound madly self- centred, but you won't be so taken up with getting married that you'll forget to put in a good word for me, will you?' Cathy asked diffidently, just before they said goodbye.
As Charles had forecast, she had been overjoyed to learc that they were engaged, and was already fretting to leave the hospital where she was missing all the excitement. Although, as Joanna had told her, since the management of the hotel had not sacked her after all, she would have to work out her contract before she and Charles could be married.
"A good word?" Joanna asked. "Oh, you mean about taking up acting. Well, I'll certainly do my best for you, pet." She grinned. "Charles does seem exceptionally mellow at the moment."
"So he jolly well ought to be," Cathy declared. "Do you know the Daily Mirror describes you as 'the most luscious French import since Brigitte Bardot' ?"
"I think that's vaguely libellous," Joanna said, laughing. "My voice is my fortune — not my bosom."
Cathy caught her hand. "I say, Jo, if I tell you something, will you swear not to let on?"
"I think I can guess — you've fallen widly in love with that nice young doctor."
"No, nothing like that — although he is rather blissful, isn't he?" Cathy agreed. "No, this is just to prove that I'm a pretty good actress already. You see" — she glanced nervously at the door "—although I did feel pretty ghastly last night, I wasn't really rambling. You see, I knew Charles was absolutely potty about you, and I guessed how you felt about him, so I thought if I kept moaning your name, they'd fetch you here. And it worked, didn't it?"
Joanna wasn't sure whether to laugh or be horrified. "Oh, darling, I don't think you ought to have pretended to be worse than you were — but yes, it did work wonders."
"Well, I had to do something. Charles had been behaving like an ogre all the week, and anyway I wanted to keep you with us. Do you suppose I can live with you — just until I start training — or would I be a terrible goose berry?"
"We like gooseberries." Joanna bent and kissed her. "Now I must fly, pet. We're going to choose a ring. 'Bye — see you later."
Charles was standing at the far end of the corridor as she closed the door behind her. Walking towards him, Joanna knew that all the best in her life was just beginning.
THE END